Richard's Doll
by Space Cadet 717
Summary: “Well, at any rate, I don't have any presents,” she said. “I wouldn't be able to do anything but say 'Merry Christmas' to them. And they'd just give me a funny look.” //One-Shot// \\ToT\\ //Angela x OC - nonromantic//


***twitch, twitch* This little one-shot took nearly three months for me to write. O_e**

**IT'S FINALLY DONE.**

**Anyway, it started out as a random fic to explain the player character's background, but since I finished it near Christmastime, it became a Christmas story. Enjoy, and Happy Holidays to everyone!**

**Remember y'all, Richard is my OC. Steal him (which I'm sure none of you will do) and I'll poke your eye with an acupuncture needle. And that will hurt. A lot.**

**Oh yeah, and just so we're clear, I _don't_ mean anything religious by this. You don't have to be Christian to celebrate Christmas.**

XXX

Richard's Doll

XXX

My footsteps clacked against the wooden pier underfoot as I took my first few steps onto this new island. Behind me, the old sailor who had kindly shipped me here—Pascal, I think his name was—was leaning against the railing, his pipe dangling ever so nonchalantly from his lips. "Well, here we are!" he announced with a bright smile. "Waffle Island. This place has gotten to be a pretty popular destination for vacations, so you should enjoy yours!"

"Thank you, sir," I said politely. I mirrored his smile so that he wouldn't feel obliged to give me a tour or anything like that.

"I'll see you around, then," he said breezily, then waved and retreated back onto his ship.

I waved back, picked up my single bag, and made my way to the end of the dock and onto the mainland. It was a nice winter night; the moon was poetically full and the salty oceanside breezes I'd heard so much about did a lot to settle my nerves. The small town was devoid of the fluorescent lights that I was used to from the city, so the stars were visible in the sky. I actually stopped for a full minute just to stare at them and all their twinkling freedom, as if they were the physical embodiment of a metaphor in itself.

When I'd gotten my fill, I continued down the small streets of Waffle Town until I reached a crosswalk, marked by a tall pole that held several directional signs. Across from that was an inn—the Sundae Inn, it was called. Pascal had informed me that this was where I would be staying during my visit, so I opened the door and peered in.

Almost instantly, I felt the doorknob fly out of my hands, and I realized that someone had pulled the door wide open from the other side. "Welcome!" sang a female voice. "Welcome to the Sundae Inn! Mr. Pascal told me you were coming! Say, what was your name again?"

"Call me Richard," I told her.

The blond woman grinned, smoothed her pink dress, and turned to face someone inside the inn. "Hey, Mom! Dad! Mr. Richard is here!"

"Richard is my first name," I clarified, but she didn't seem to hear me.

Behind her appeared another woman, about my age, with short red hair and a green dress. "Hello, welcome to the Sundae Inn," she said, with contrasting calmness. "My name is Colleen, and this is my daughter, Maya. If you need anything, please ask me." We shook hands, and then she led me inside.

To my right, I spotted a long sports bar. A thickset, redheaded man was chatting with a blonde behind the counter, but when her eyes flicked past him and saw me, she halted the conversation. "Excuse me, mister! It's been a little while since we had a new customer! Why don't you come and by the bar for a moment? First drink's on the house for people staying in the inn!"

"Yeah, come on," the man added invitingly. "Join us!"

I longed to say yes, to let my stresses vanish under the influence of a cocktail or two, but I'd promised myself that I would stay away from this during my stay at Waffle Town. The _country air_ was supposed to calm me, not the all-too-familiar taste of alcohol. So instead I shook my head and mumbled, "Maybe later."

"Okidoki!" said the barmaid with a shrug, and then went back to whatever she had been talking about with the man.

Just my luck. The very place I was sleeping happened to have a bar. Hurriedly, I turned to Colleen, and asked, "Excuse me, but where is my room?"

"You're going to bed already?" Maya piped in. "But it's only seven-thirty! Dakota doesn't even go to bed until eight-thirty!"

"Dakota...?"

"My daughter," she said. I assumed that she was actually older than she looked (and acted). "And she's only seven! Why don't you stay up long—?"

"Maya, if Richard is tired, we should let him sleep," Collen interrupted gently. "I'm sure he's had a long trip."

Maya jumped, flushed from the scolding, and then hastily said, "Wait, I'm sorry. That was rude. I'll let Mom show you where you'll be staying!"

Colleen chuckled and led me to the back of the room, where a wide spiral staircase rested. On the second floor was a hallway lined with doors, each bearing a brass number. She opened up the first one. "This is your where you'll be staying," she told me. "Although we don't have any guests right now, so you can choose to board in any other room you'd like, if that's what you'd prefer."

"You don't have any guests?" I asked. "But Pascal told me that this town got a lot of tourists."

"Oh, Pascal exaggerates all the time," Colleen laughed modestly. "We do get visitors occasionally, but they're usually only here for the day and don't need to stay at the inn. Toucan Island is much more popular. Summer is when we get the most business."

"I'll be sure to tell my friends about this place," I promised her.

"Oh, you're so kind. That's not necessary." She smiled. "Anyway, enjoy your stay and have a good night. I'll be right downstairs if you need me."

After she left, I dropped my bag on the ground and collapsed onto the bed. It was true that I wasn't very tired, as Maya had pointed out, but I still felt like I needed to sleep. The ticking of the clock across the room was soothing and I, even though I was still fully clothed, let myself doze off.

I woke up in the middle of the night and happened to glance at the window to see snow. It fell in tiny wafts from the sky, drifting lazily until it dropped out of view of the window. I smiled softly, and then sat up in bed. I reached for my bag, ruffled around in it for a minute or two, and then pulled out a set of pajamas. After dressing, I went back to sleep.

The next morning I woke up late, despite my abundance of rest. Upon coming downstairs, I found the inn curiously empty. But the cheering and laughing that came from outside told me that everyone was enjoying the new snowfall.

When I opened the door, I accidentally bumped someone. After an automatic apology, I looked out to see that it was Colleen again.

"Oh, good morning, Richard," she said happily. "So you're finally up, then?" She laughed briefly and then went on. "It's a Sunday so all of the kids in the town are out here playing. You picked a good day to start your visit! Aren't they cute?" She gestured to the small field in front of the inn, where a group of young children had gathered and were currently pelting each other with snowballs.

The scene unfolded in front of me like a television sitcom.

"Van! Van! Tell us how snow is made!" a ginger-haired little girl cried as she formed another ball. "Pleeeeease? I wanna know!"

A raven-haired boy sitting behind her adjusted his glasses and answered, "When the air gets really cold, water freezes into ice. So when it's cold, instead of raining, it snows."

"See, Heath? I told you he would know!" gushed the blonde, turning to a boy with a hat who was beside her. "Van knows everything!"

"I don't know everything," Van corrected. "Human brains can't hold that much information."

The girl squealed with admiration. "See? See? He's soooo smart!"

All Heath said was "Ow!" because someone had hit him in the back with a snowball. He growled, balled up another handful of snow, and faced Van. "Hey, Van, can you use your smarts to help us win? Please? Give us a stratay—a strateg..."

"Strategy."

"Yeah! That!"

To my surprise, the little boy pointed straight at me. "Look at him!" Van said. "He's a grownup, but he's not from around here, so maybe he has some new ideas from faraway places!"

"Heeey, that's not fair!" a boy from the other side protested, overhearing Van's idea.

Worried that a fight might start because of me, I quickly said, "I'm sorry, but I don't think I'll be able to help any of you. I...um..." I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see Maya and another man I didn't recognize. She smiled, and I got the message. "I think that Maya and—and—"

"Chase."

"I think that Maya and Chase will be able to help you both, though!"

"Yaaay! Mommy and Daddy are helping!" cheered the little girl from before. (That meant that she must be Dakota.)

After the couple went off to assist the little ones, I made my escape. I had never really been good with children on my own. So instead I fled further down the street to explore, hoping that I wouldn't bump into too many more people.

"Hey, wait, mister!" a little girl's voice called from behind me.

I stopped and turned to see a child with a red bow in her violet curls. She ran up to me and said, "If you see Mia, tell her that we're waiting for her, okay?" the girl requested tersely, and then spun around and returned to the snowball fight before I could ask who "Mia" was.

Shrugging, I continued down the road, passed between two hills, and reached another town-like area. I noticed a sign that read "Maple Lake," and, sure enough, saw a large frozen lake just a few steps later. With a stretch, I sat down at the water's edge and relaxed.

A few minutes later, one of the sparse clouds that happened to be covering the sun passed away and, by chance, the sunlight reflected off of something shiny that was buried in the snow. I blinked and looked to my left, where a small dot was glittering in the snowbank. Curious, I reached over an plucked it up.

It was a small silver locket, shaped classically like a heart. Tiny, delicate designs were etched across the face of the charm, all of which melting into a minuscule clasp on one side. Miniature links of silver formed a chain so the trinket could be worn. I turned it over in my hand and saw two gaudy letters carved in the back: AM.

"_Happy birthday, kiddo!"_

My hand twitched as if rejecting the necklace. Quickly, I shook my head. No, there was no way. I was just being crazy. Of course this was familiar—almost all lockets were the same, and there were countless people in the world with the initials of AM. It was coincidence.

"Excuse me, sir?" a young voice said, interrupting my thoughts. I jumped slightly and turned. And then I almost screamed.

Wait. No. Just a trick of the light, I presume. I sighed and relaxed. This girl was similar, I'd admit, but her mousy brown hair was pin-straight, and her eyes were green and resting behind a pair of circular glasses. She gave me a confused look, obviously in response to my strange and presumably visible reaction, so I smiled quickly to smooth things over.

"Hello, there. Do you need something?"

Before she could answer, a blond man suddenly hurried over and knelt down beside her. "Amelia, there you are," he said. "You shouldn't run off like that, you know." He glanced at me and smiled in greeting. "I'm sorry. She wasn't bothering you, was she?"

"Not at all."

"Daddy, he has Mommy's necklace," the little girl explained, and pointed at the locket in my hand.

"Oh, this is yours?" I opened my fingers and held out the charm. "I just found it by the lake."

The man's blue eyes went wide for a second, and then he took the necklace from me. "Thank you very much!" he said, surprised. "We've been looking for this for days."

"Glad I could help," I said with a shrug. "Oh, I just remembered, Mia is short for Amelia, right?" The little girl nodded, so I added, "The other children are waiting for you. They're outside the inn, so be sure to get there soon."

"We were just on our way there," the man said. He took his daughter's hand and stood up. "By the way, my name is Gill Hamilton. Yours?"

"Call me Richard," I said for the second time.

"Well, thank you again, Richard," he said pleasantly. "My wife will be very grateful. Enjoy your stay here."

"Right," I said, and waved as he left with Mia in the direction of the inn.

My mind flitted, and I wondered briefly how old his wife was, but quickly banished the thought. Mrs. Hamilton had about as many chances of being _her_ as Mia did. So I quickly stood up and traveled further down the path, not wanting to speak to anyone else right now.

I stayed up in the far north for the entire day. A few people asked me why I wasn't enjoying myself in the main town, but I was able to use the excuse of the occasional landmark, such as the Ganache Mine. After a while, I found a nice spot in a nearby forest to lay down and relax. I sat there until the sun began to set, and then made my way back to the inn.

"Oh, Richard, there you are!" Colleen said when she saw me come in. "Where were you? You missed out on all the fun down here. You should have seen the children—my, they were such little angels!" She laughed pleasantly from the memory.

All I did was nod and pull out a seat from one of the tables. As I was ordering my small dinner, the redheaded man from last night came by my table. "It's the last day of the weekend," he said happily. "And you turned us down yesterday. So whaddaya say you have a drink tonight? First one's still on the house! Come on, it's fun!"

The barmaid overheard him and slapped his shoulder. "Owen, maybe he's not a drinker," she scolded lightly. "Just leave him alone."

"Not a drinker," I repeated, my voice barely above a murmur.

"See? I warned you. Now why don't we go bother someone other than the helpless guest for a change?" She laughed and tugged him away from me, unaware that I was sending her silent waves of thanks.

My second night was much like my first, except now I managed to dress in my nightclothes before falling asleep for the first time. And it didn't snow again; the sky had obviously emptied itself for at least another week or two. And unlike my first morning, when I came downstairs, the lobby was bustling with people.

Maya skittered past me with an armful of plates, which led me to believe that she was a waitress here. "It's the breakfast rush!" she explained cheerfully before running off to the kitchen.

I meandered towards an empty table and took the back of a chair to pull it out, curiously scanning the room as I did so. My wandering eyes happened to rest on one table, where Mia, the little girl from before, was clumsily cleaning her glasses with a napkin. All of a sudden, a pair of hands reached into the scene and gently took the specs from her.

"Mommy, be careful," warned Mia.

The woman, whose back was turned to me, laughed softly as she began to clean the glasses herself. "Don't worry, sweetie. I always am."

Involuntarily, I gave a small jump, and then turned to leave. Colleen spotted me and asked, a bit confused, if I wanted breakfast, to which I truthfully said that I wasn't hungry. I spent the rest of the day at the frost-covered beach.

"This is dumb," I told myself aloud. "You came here to relax. And yet you're constantly afraid of bumping into this complete stranger just because her daughter happened to remind you of someone." Then I sighed and rubbed my aching temples.

Nevertheless, the next day I stayed in my room until I was sure that I'd heard the sound of the breakfast rush die down. And, needless to say, by the time I finally made it downstairs, I was famished. Maya cheerily took my order—or rather, vehemently recommended her husband's special of the day, and soon I had a monstrous plate of eggs and pancakes before me.

"It's kinda funny to see you with all that food," Maya remarked, acting as though she hadn't been the one to choose it all for me.

"Hm? Why?"

"No reason, really," she said with a shrug. "It's just you never really seem to eat anything, at least during the time you've been here. But for the most part you've been sightseeing, so I guess you haven't really had time."

I didn't answer.

"Well, just make sure you finish it!" With that, she skipped off, leaving me to eat in peace.

I finished the eggs first. A couple of bites into my pancakes, however, my eyes happened to wander across the room and come to a stop on the large, flickering fireplace that rested on one wall. Above it was a stone mantle with a few picture frames standing on it. Most of them were average photographs of people I'd never seen, but the third one from the left made me drop my fork.

"I...it..." I muttered incomprehensibly, staring at the picture in shock.

It was a photo of a young couple, aged in their late twenties. In front of them stood a little girl with a bundle of blankets—a baby doll—held in her arms. The three of them were smiling heartily at the camera, looking as airy and carefree as ever.

Not wanting Maya to be angry or Chase to be offended, I forced myself to finish the pancakes, and then spent the rest of the day ghosting around Maple Lake District.

When night fell, it brought on a frosty chill that went straight to my bones. Shivering, I wrapped my arms around my body. This was the point where most people in my position would return to the inn, with its welcoming warmth and a bed of my own, but I didn't want to chance a dinner rush or anything like that. Instead, I wandered around the town some more, and found myself meandering towards the docks.

There, I happened to bump into Pascal again. He smiled and tipped his hat in greeting, but was surprised when I actually began to make conversation. "Excuse me, may I ask you a question?"

"O'course," the sailor said heartily.

"What time is the next boat leaving?"

My inquiry caught him off guard, and he hesitated for a second. "...Wait, you mean, you're leaving already?" he echoed. "Why? I thought you were staying for a whole week. Don't you like it here?"

"It's a lovely town," I said truthfully. "But I...have some business back where I come from."

"Wife and kids?"

"...I wish." I sighed. "Really, though. When can I go?"

Pascal made a slightly displeased face, but answered in an untainted voice. "The next ship is departing at noon tomorrow. I suppose I'll see you then."

"Thank you," I responded politely. "And I really do enjoy it here. I would stay if I could." He nodded and we said our goodbyes before I returned to the inn.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Yes, I would stay if I could. But I just _can't_.

The next day, I arose early to pack my things, but waited until the breakfast rush was over to say a brief goodbye with the innkeepers and flee out the doorway. It was 11:36 exactly, only a few more minutes until the ship's departure; in fact, it was already waiting at the dock. So close...

"Oh, hello! Wait up!"

I froze.

I knew that voice. It was older and deeper, but I knew it. I knew the lightness and cheerfulness that resided in it, with its high-pitched undertone, yet soothing overall feeling. And when I turned, I knew her face, her chocolate-colored eyes, the hair with the slightest wave in it. I tried to locate things that were unfamiliar—this chopped haircut was new—but I couldn't find anything that would deny her identity.

"Hi," said Angela Moon. "I finally found you!"

I choked on my own tongue as I spoke. "...Hello..."

Angela smiled placidly and pulled a necklace from underneath her collar. "You must be the famous Richard, right? My husband told me that you found this, and I wanted to thank you in person," she said. "It's very special to me. Granted, my initials don't match the etching anymore, but still."

I simply nodded, unable to find any words.

Seeing my hesitation with slightly confused eyes, she continued to fill the silence: "It was a gift from my uncle when I was young. I don't know what I'd have done if it was lost forever. So, really, thank you very much."

"...It was nothing..." I breathed.

She eyed my suitcase. "Are you leaving already?" she inquired. "But it seems you've only just gotten here."

"I..." Goddess dammit, what do I say?! "Y-yeah. C-certain things...came up..."

"Well..." She checked her watch nonchalantly. "It's still going to be about twenty minutes before the boat leaves. Would you like to chat while you wait?"

_No._ "Sure," I croaked, not wanting to sound rude.

"Lovely." Casually, she tucked the locket back beneath her shirt and leaned against the railing beside me. "So, Richard, how's life been treating you?"

"As of late, very poorly," I muttered below my breath.

Unfortunately for me, she heard me. "Really? How so?"

I knew that she was expecting to hear about financial issues or the like, some city story that was irrelevant to her. But, as I chewed nervously on my lip, right then I decided that I was sick of avoiding everything. "I've been worrying about my family," I told her.

"Oh? What's wrong?"

"I don't really know anything about them."

She gave me a sympathetic look. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost track of Gill, or, even worse, little Mia."

"Speaking of Mia," I said. "Where is she?"

"She's at school, of course."

"What about Gill?"

She chuckled. "He's the teacher."

"Oh, is Mia home-schooled?" I guessed.

"No, he's the _teacher_," Angela repeated. I noticed her posture stiffen a bit with pride. "He's really very smart. Part of why he's good for me; I can't figure out anything that has to do with math to save my life. Hehehe."

Hearing this, I finally summed up my courage. "So, does he treat you well?"

She didn't notice my anxiety, as she had just gotten ready to boast about him of her own accord. "Of course he does," she said with a grin. "He tries to be indifferent sometimes, but I can tell how much he cares. The way he acts, he sometimes seems like we're still nervous teenagers. He used to be so obsessed with being proper..." Then her smile faded a little. "Oh, but I'm sure you don't want to hear about that..."

"No, I do," I said encouragingly. "Tell me."

Pleased, she renewed her smile and narrated: "Well, I met him when I first moved to the island. At first I thought he was an unlikable person, really, since we always seemed to get into an argument whenever we met. I was all about...you know, living life to the fullest, that sort of thing; and he was just a workaholic." She laughed. "But I was good friends with his coworker, Elli, so I kept bumping into him whenever I went to visit her. After a while, we got to know each other better, and..." She blushed lightly. "And the rest is history."

"I'll bet you were the one who proposed."

She blinked in surprise. "Actually, I was. And he got all embarrassed, since it's traditionally the guy's job, and stuff like that." She paused to laugh, and then added, "How did you know?"

"You...you _seem_ like the type of person who would be bold like that." Technically, that was the truth. "Anyway, what about Mia? What's she like?"

"Mia?" Almost instantly, Angela's expression went from dreamy to delighted. "Oh, she's just wonderful! I realize that every mother must think that about her child, but Mia really is the sweetest little girl I've ever met, at least in my opinion. She's just like her father, always looking for new things to learn about. I'll admit she's not exactly a social butterfly, but I don't think she's ever met anyone who hasn't become her friend."

"You sound so biased," I teased.

"It's true!" she said with a joking pout.

I laughed.

Having reached a lull in the conversation, we both fell silent for a few seconds. Angela expected to be the one who needed to fill it, so she opened her mouth, but I surprised her.

"Angela, are you aware that today is Christmas Eve?"

"Hm?" She stared for a second, and then realized. "Oh, right! I forgot. They don't have Christmas here on Waffle Island, so..."

I smiled, and then rested my suitcase on the ground. The clasp flicked open effortlessly and I began to dig around. "I think you should celebrate it with your family this year. It may be just what you need to make your wonderful life even better."

"You think so?" She thought for a moment. "But I don't think they even know what Christmas is. It's a holiday from the city, you know. And I haven't done it in so long, so I'm not sure I'll be much of a guide."

"Nonsense. Spreading joy is like riding a bike."

"Well, at any rate, I don't have any presents," she said. "I wouldn't be able to do anything but say 'Merry Christmas!' to them. And they'd just give me a funny look."

"That's why I'm giving you this." Finally, I found it. It was a stuffed rag doll, with large embroidered eyes and golden locks of yarn-hair. The dress was slightly frayed and the fabric faded, but it was still as beautiful and charming as the day I'd bought it.

"What's this?" She took the doll from my outstretched hands and inspected it curiously.

"I bought it twenty years ago," I told her, "for a very special girl."

"And you never gave it to her?"

"I just did."

She stared at me.

I chuckled and went on as if I hadn't said anything strange. "I never got the chance, you see. On Christmas Eve, all those years ago, both of her parents were lost in a horrible car accident. Her father, he was my brother."

"I...I'm so...sorry?" She still hadn't registered my first statement.

"I was her closest relative, but I was an idiot back then," I said, frowning. "I was so devastated at the loss of my closest friends—at Christmastime, even! And don't get me wrong—I loved that niece of mine with all my heart, and I still do—but I just couldn't face her. When the orphanage called my house, I refused custody of her. By the time I'd realized my mistake, I had already lost contact completely.

"But I found her, Angela, after all these years." I smiled warmly. "And I couldn't be happier! She has a wonderful husband and an adorable little daughter. The only thing I don't like is the fact that she no longer celebrates Christmas! That's why I gave you that doll, Angela. Because I want my niece to give it to Mia for her very first Christmas."

Angela gaped at me, utterly unable to speak. I waited patiently for almost a full five minutes. Then, suddenly, she burst into tears.

"Hey, now. No need to get all teary," I bantered.

She sank to her knees, clutching the doll so tightly against her chest that I thought she was going to pop its head off. Her tears mixed with the snow below her as she sobbed endlessly, her lips moving but no words managed. All she could do was cry.

"Oh my..."

I turned to see Pascal standing behind me with a shocked countenance. I laughed. "No worries, she'll be fine in a moment," I assured him, and ruffled her hair casually as if to prove my point.

He cleared his throat nervously. "Well, Richard, it's...uh...time for the ship to leave. Would you, er...?"

I shook my head. "No, thank you. I've decided to stay for a few more days. In fact, I've been thinking about moving here! It's a very nice town."

"Um..." He nodded slowly, his eyes constantly darting back to the sobbing Angela. "Well, then..." He left.

I chuckled again and gently shook Angela's shoulder to gain her attention. "Come on, now. You're making a scene, kiddo."

With a large, wet gasp, she looked up and feebly wiped the tears from her cheeks. "M-m-m-merry C-C-Christmas, Uncle R-Ri-Richie," she whispered.

"Merry Christmas." I pointed at the doll. "Better wrap that quick before Mia figures out it wasn't Santa."

**XXX**

_**HAPPY HOLIDAYS, EVERYONE!!!!!**_

**(...Was anyone able to tell that the doll was an example of symbolism? xD Hence the title...)**

**Oh yeah, and sorry about the choppiness. I've geared myself towards longfic mode in order to work on AFILAL, and the fluency is very different there, so a sudden one-shot doesn't do me justice. :( Ah, well.**


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